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O My Poor Eyes (Jones 1600 xiii Tk3
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I feel that this is one of Robert Jones' worst songs. Thus I, as the Robert Jones biographer, may be the only one to record and post this song; as it is part of my study.
lute philip rosseter robert jones put your bum to work you wont like most of it frances pilkington
Artist picture
Elisha Zaporelostzi's first performances were the Open Stages put on by the Bytown Live in Ottawa Ontario, Canada. It is how Neil Young and Joni Mitchell started. Phreap magazine is a one page thing that went around Ottawa in the 1980s. Now it is a web site; http://home.att.ne.jp/blue/patchan With the help of Joe-Charly Smith, Molly Ding, Calhoon-Fred Febealie, and Butter Jones I was able to put out Phreap magazine.
Song Info
Author
Anon / Robert Jones
Rights
Patrick T. Connolly
Uploaded
December 12, 2012
Track Files
MP3
MP3 1.9 MB 160 kbps 1:38
Story behind the song
Jones was a competent composer and the music here may not be bad but I find the lyric not so nice and because of that I feel that this is one of Robert This is my newest song and it may be the only song that I started recording in 2011 and 2012. However I still have a backlog of old recordings. Jones' worst songs. Robert Jones published over 100 songs and madrigals. Where the full works of his friend John Dowland have been recorded and put out on CD, songs like this one ('O my poor eyes') prevent the full works of Jones being attempted. Thus I, as the Robert Jones biographer, may be the only one to record and post this song; as it is part of my study.
Lyrics
XIII. O my poor eyes O my poor eyes, the sun whose shine Late gave you light doth now decline, And, set to you, to others riseth. She who would sooner die than change, Not fearing death delights to range, A now, O now, O now my soul despiseth. Yet, O my heart, thy state is blest To find our rest in thy unrest, Since thou her slave no more remainest. For she that bound thee sets thee free(- see Jones #2 in this 1st booke) Then when she first forsaketh thee. Such, O such, O such right by wrong thou gainest. Eyes, gaze no more! heart learn to hate! Experience tells you all too late Fond woman's love with faith still warreth, While true desert speaks, writes and gives, Some groom the bargain nearer drives, And he, O he, O he, the market marreth.
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